Suddenly
by DizzyDawn007
Summary: Fairytales aren't real, everyone knows that. So what do you do when you're offered the fairytale that everyone wants and no one believes in? T for now it might change!
1. In a Moment

Little thing that pretty much inspired this whole story - In one moment, so much can change. You look at your life one day, and you're happy with it – it might not be the same the next day. It's not that you wake up and are suddenly not happy. It's just that one day, you realize you could be happier. And that's when you think of all the things you compromised on, it's when you think of the feelings you've shoved aside, all the dreams you've given up. All in favor of reality – because no one is ever perfectly happy with their life anymore, they just think it's reality and that it won't ever change – that fairytales don't come true. But you should remember – the fairytales they tell now – they weren't always fairytales. Once, they too, were reality.

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**Chapter 1: In a Moment**

She knows it's the right thing to do, for both of them. She knows she can't go on like this. She knows she has to do it. But it's so much easier to just stay in this spot that she's found herself in. She also knows that she used to be happy, or at least she thought she was. Most of the time. She knows he thinks that everything is perfect between them. And she knows, desperately knows, that nothing is going to change. Unless she changes everything. She wants to, needs to, knows she should, and yet it's been two months and she still hasn't done it. She's tried to tell herself that it'll change, that he'll change. She's tried to make things better, tried to tell him everything isn't perfect. But he won't change, and he won't listen, and she knows all this. But she also knows that once it's out there, that she can't take it back. She knows that it'll change everything, it'll change every aspect of her life. She'll have to move, her friends might choose, and she's unsure about who they'll choose. She'll be able to work harder, she'll have time to herself, and she thinks she could be happy. At least, happier than she is now. He'll be home in an hour, even though everyone at his office has left already, and she knows it'll be easier if she has everything ready for this life-changing event. And she knows, reviewing everything in her head, it's for the best.

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flashback

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He was supposed to be home hours ago. He must have forgotten that they had reservations, or actually, re-reservations after he forgot the last time too, and he's probably still at work. And she remembers the last time, the fight they had when he arrived home two hours after the reservation, remembers what he had said. She remembers screaming at him, remembers how he yelled back. She remembers the words so clearly, she can still hear them ringing in her mind. But most of all, she remembers crying in her bed that night, quietly, so that he wouldn't hear from his room. She remembers being so glad she's waiting until her wedding night, because she'd have hated to have him beside her then.

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She remembers being so disappointed when he doesn't want to meet her family. After all, she meets with his mum everyday Thursday for lunch and tea. So why won't he visit her parents? She remembers asking him if it was because they were muggles. He just laughed it off, but she knew that she was right when she spotted the faint blush across his pale cheeks. She remembers telling herself that night, over and over, that she loves him, and that that's enough. But most of all, she remembers the morning after, in the daylight, when she realized that sometimes, love isn't enough. She becomes a tad more cynical after that fight.

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She remembers that he likes dinner on the table when he comes home, cause his mother always had everything perfect when he was little. She remembers the fight they have when he comes home and supper isn't even on the stove yet. She remembers how angry and upset and hurt she gets when he won't even listen to her. And she remembers how she lets the anger cover everything else, cause she's had a bad day, and she's just found out that one of her cousins died, and she's not even feeling that well. But he won't listen, and she can't find the strength to yell tonight, so she ends up storming to her room and crying quietly again, thinking about how nothing is how she'd thought it'd be. After that fight, she becomes a bit more hardened, because he won't be there to cry on.

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The charity they were attending was for a good cause, she remembers that. She left work early that day so that she could get ready, so that she could make herself glamorous, if only for a little while. She remembers crying when she brushes her hair, because it hurts so much. She remembers wincing every time she uses those damned tweezers. As she slips the beautiful dress on, she's reminded of the fight they had over the price of it, and she remembers the sigh that escapes her lips when she realizes the dress will be forever tainted with that memory, and it will never be beautiful to her again. She remembers that he didn't say one word to her about how she looked, or the dress, or anything at all about all the effort she put in to look this wonderful. He does, however, ask her to keep quiet for the most part, because he knows how she gets stuck on her "causes" and tonight is supposed to be all about "light conversation between business associates." She remembers smiling at his friends, remembers keeping quiet, because she loves him, after all. But most of all, she remembers sneaking away from him to cry silently in the ladies' room. After that night, she becomes a tad more resentful.

* * *

She'd finally convinced him to go see a film with her, and she's so excited. She can tell he's apprehensive, but she doesn't say anything, because she knows how he'd just deny it and possibly get angry. She'd gotten some muggle money from her parents, because it was just such a hassle to go to Gringott's and have money exchanged. She remembers being sure not to tell him this, because she isn't sure of how he'll react, and she's so tired of always fighting over the stupidest things. She remembers being saddened when he doesn't like the film. She remembers being angry that when they get home, he mentions something about how the people in the movie weren't married and they had sex, and why couldn't she just get over it? She remembers wanting to smack him in her anger. She remembers forgiving him the next day when he brings her breakfast in bed, even if it is too early to be up, because he has to go into work early. But most of all, she remembers him making fun of the promise ring her father gave her. And after that, she becomes a tad more religious and starts to go to church with her parents on Sundays again.

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They'd just decided to move in together, and they were looking for apartments that weren't too expensive. Their first apartment had been small, and she remembers how he told her there wouldn't be enough room for all her books. She remembers how sad she was, because she loves her books, but she agrees that he's right, that the apartment is too small to have all of them there. She remembers how her parents came over in the afternoon and helped her move all her books into their house again, cause they love her, and they love books, and they'll do anything for their baby. She remembers how crazy she went when she didn't have anything to read. She remembers how, months later, when they move into a bigger apartment and there is enough space for at least some of her books, he asks her if they could just stay at her parent's house, because he doesn't want books to clutter everything in their new apartment. She remembers reluctantly saying yes, that the books would stay at her parent's house. But most of all, she remembers coming home one night to find three shelves up in the living room, stacked full of his comic books and awards from work. After that 2nd apartment, she becomes just a little bit more obsessed with her books.

* * *

It's their 2nd anniversary, and she's so surprised and happy when he actually remembers and she's even happier when he pulls out a black jewelry box. She thinks that maybe things will get better now, that maybe he'll spend more time with her, and maybe they'll be happier. She remembers never loving him more than when she opens the box to find a beautiful ruby necklace, even though she loves emeralds best. It fits her just perfectly, and he insists that she change into something red or black so that she can wear it when they go to dinner in an hour. And because she's so thrilled with him and filled with hope for their next year of being together, she does, even though she'd searched for hours and hours to find this perfect green dress that compliments her skin. She remembers giggling with Ginny when she visits and tells her all about the wonderful time they had and how she didn't expect anything even close to that. But most of all, she remembers living on a cloud for the next week and then crashing down to earth painfully when she goes to his office to surprise him for lunch and hears him talking to a colleague about how he'd certainly shown up Herton, because he'd only been able to get his wife a small gold bracelet. After that, she begins to hate rubies.

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It's almost a year later and work is going great for both of them. She thinks she might get promoted soon, and she's so happy about it she can't wait to tell him. She remembers telling him, but he's so focused on the work that he's brought home with him that he hardly notices and then when he finally does look up, she remembers what a strange face he had when he said he wanted to talk. She remembers listening to him go on and on about the office and about how he's making enough money now for them to really be happy, and then she remembers the horror she felt as he told he wanted her to quit her job. He didn't get that she enjoyed her work, and he couldn't understand why she feels the need to make her own money, because he's making enough for both of them. She remembers thinking that he'd always been obsessed with money, but this just went a little but too far. She remembers screaming at him that she'd never quit and that he couldn't make her. She remembers how angry he got and she remembers going to spend a few days with her parents because she was just so tired of yelling about the same thing. But most of all, she remembers crying in her old bedroom when she comes to the realization that she's not in love with him. After that horrid fight, she remembers staying up late into the night, wondering if she was ever really in love, and crying some more after coming to the conclusion that she never was.

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end flashback

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When she receives an owl telling her he'll be home in another hour, all she can think is how appropriate it is. And because she's got everything all packed up, she owls her mum and waits for a response. She gets one in less that twenty minutes, and she puts all her boxes by the door to be ready to go when her parents get there with their car. Ten minutes later, they're there and she knows they must have sped through all those residential streets and it's all she can do to not cry when her mother tells her she's doing the right thing. She thinks she's never loved her parents more than in this moment, because they're both so supportive even though they didn't want her to move in with him before they got married. And they never once say, "I told you so" to her and she's so grateful. In twenty minutes, they have the car loaded and she tells them to go ahead, that she'll floo home as soon as she talks to him. Her mother hugs her and makes sure she's okay before leaving. And she knows that they'll be speeding back home, just to make sure everything in her old bedroom is ready for her when she arrives. She's thinking about how much they must love her and how lucky she is to have them when he gets home.

And at first he doesn't notice anything is different, and he just dumps everything in the chair by the door like he always does. She's amazed when all he does is ask her if she's changed things around, cause something looks different. She sighs and can't even manage a smile; cause he has no idea what is coming.

She told him she needed to talk to him and made him sit in the living room with her so she could do it before he did anything else. She knows she has to do it, she knows she wants to, and it's still so hard for her to do it, mostly because he's just so clueless and she knows that this will come as a shock to him. It's ten minutes before she can even get a semblance of the words she wants to use and she can see that he's anxious to do what he always does when he comes home, so she tries to hurry herself along. She takes one long look at his pale face, his sharp features, his long legs and arms, and tries to call up some of the "love" that she felt for him and she just can't. His face blurs with her tears and she hears herself speak.

"I'm leaving. This isn't working. I'm not happy. It's for the best. I've collected everything that's mine, and I've taken care of next months' rent. I'm breaking up with you, and I'm sorry I couldn't love you. I'm sorry you couldn't give me what I need, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to realize all this. I know this is the right thing to do. Goodbye, Ron."

She can't look at his speechless face and she apparates with tears streaming down her face because she's sure she'd get streaks of ash down her face if she were to floo in this condition. She crumples on the couch and a second later she's in her mother's arms and even though she's crying, she knows that this is right. She knows she wants this. And she knows that this'll be the last time she cries because of him.

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** Well, this is the first chapter of my new story. Just a warning, this story will most likely be pretty long. This chapter was basically just about Hermione's relationship with Ron, and it won't be the last mention of it, either. Saying that, I'd like to reassure you readers that this is indeed a Draco/Hermione fic. It's just going to be a very progressive one. So you are officially warned. I'd like to thank you guys in advance for reading and (hopefully) leaving a review, good or bad. **

**Dizzy**

**p.s. just as a thing of curiosity, could you tell me who you _thought_ she was with before you _knew_ it was Ron? thanks bunches!**


	2. For the First Time

**First off, I'd like to say thanks to all my lovely reviewers! **Sam, CrimsonTears93 **(I'm glad you liked the way it was broken up, cause I wasn't entirely sure if it worked or not!)**,Firelily's Dragon, Lion3ss **(I'm not a huge fan of his either, as you might be able to tell)**, and Rose Mitzkah **(btw, I tried to make more space between the lines). Thank you so much for telling me what you thought, it really means alot to me. Hope you guys like the new chapter, even if it is a little short.**_

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_Chapter 2: For the First Time_

For the first time in her life, Hermione was going to be living by herself. Maybe she was a bit late at it, older than most when they set out truly alone. She'd lived with a pack of girls whom she hadn't been completely fond of for nearly seven years. And then she had stayed at home with her parents, simply because it was comforting and she thought that starting a brand-new job would be stressful enough. She'd been right about that. And then things had gotten somewhat serious with Ron, and she let herself be talked into living together. She wasn't ever going to do that again. She'd lived with him for almost three years. And now she was finally going to be living completely by herself. She was excited. So excited, in fact that she went out and bought a total of eleven new books. Hermione told herself that she'd earned them, and living by herself, she had enough money for them, so why not? And then she told herself that she'd make it a rule to only stop in a bookstore once a month, so she wouldn't go bankrupt.

Her parents helped her move, because she really didn't have many things to move. They were even letting her take some furniture. Everything that had been in her bedroom at her parents' house was now in her bedroom at her new flat. Her father gave her a chair from his small study, and she used it in the living room with the other three chairs that she'd picked out when shopping with her mum. Anna Granger had insisted on giving her daughter the small table that was now in her dining room/kitchen, as well as a few chairs to go with it, of course. It was a little battered, and it had a few nicks here and there, and Hermione loved it to no end. She didn't have a television, but she did have a small gas fireplace as the focal point in the living room. The first night, she roasted marshmallows by herself and read by the fireside. It was her favorite spot in her new home.

After the first two weeks, she told herself it wasn't plausible to keep eating out or at her parents' house. Of course, she knew how to cook, and she did it well enough, but she never remembered liking it all that much. Hermione was never quite sure just how much food to make, how much food Ron would want to eat, and often she found herself with too little or too much. And then there was the whole decision of what to cook at all. So for her first meal, she made a simple dinner. A special chicken recipe that Ron hadn't particularly cared for, so she hadn't made it again after the first time. It was her mothers' recipe, one that Hermione knew by heart. What a surprise it was to her when she found herself softly singing while throwing the marinade together. After that, she took to playing a CD or the radio to sing along to. It was then that Hermione discovered she liked to cook and bake for herself. She loved making pies and cookies more, and she found herself trying out new recipes on Sunday afternoons when she had nothing better to do.

A month and a half after she moved in, she had her first guest that wasn't a family member. Sasha, a girl that Hermione worked with, wanted to celebrate with Hermione about her second promotion in a matter of months. So she had invited Sasha over, not realizing how much she wanted her to like the flat until an hour before she was due to arrive. Sasha had loved it, and generously expressed her pride and happiness that Hermione was really moving forward with her life, while she joked about being a lowly secretary. She'd blushed and said it was no big deal, but Sasha was good friend to Hermione, her best friend, and didn't let Hermione get away with being so modest about the whole thing. Hermione anxiously let her sample the latest experimental batch of cookies and afterward, Sasha had demanded the recipe so she could make her own any time she wanted, and Hermione glowed with pride.

With only herself to look after, Hermione really had been spending more time on her work. It had always been her real passion, besides reading that is, and she was finally coming closer and closer to the job that she'd wanted since halfway through her sixth year. It seemed forever to Hermione until she would reach where she wanted to be, but even she knew that she was rapidly coming closer. Most of her co-workers would say that it was the result of her becoming a workaholic, but Hermione was certain that wasn't true. Sasha said it was because they were jealous of Hermione's brains and Hermione secretly thought it might have something to do with the fact that she'd always been more at home and friendly with the secretaries and overworked girls who a lot of others in the Ministry took for granted. Of course, Hermione tried not to care too much, and consoled herself with the knowledge that if everything went to plan, she would soon be a member of the Department of Research of Magic. Truly, she thought she ought to thank Harry. If it wasn't for him, she didn't think she'd ever have realized just how much she enjoyed researching and learning about every single kind of magic that there was. Hermione laughed now when she remembered how worried she'd been about choosing a job, because she was interested in so many different things, and she knew she could do anything. Now, in the Department of Research of Magic, she would learn about any and all kinds of magic, and she'd be paid for it. She almost thought she should be a little worried about herself, because Hermione had realized long ago that she was basically obsessed with things that she thought she shouldn't be.

Not surprisingly, she was thinking of work when she rounded a corner and was jolted out of her thoughts so quickly she thought it a wonder she didn't have a headache. Directly across the street was a man she avoided like the plague. Normally adept at weaving her small frame through crowds, she bumped several people on the sidewalk by suddenly stopping. What was he doing around here? As far as she knew, this was strictly a muggle neighborhood, with the exception of herself. Of course, she had seen him flit about her dream department a few times, had heard his name float about the office. Then again, she thought, seeing him or hearing of him was completely different than having him suddenly standing on a corner waiting for the light to change not a block away from her house. Shuffled by the crowd a bit, she moved to stand against the wall of a building, out of peoples' way. Wondering briefly what he was doing around here, she stopped herself, just as she had stopped her curiosity of him in her youth. The light changed, and suddenly he was surging closer to her, just like the rest of the crowd. Questioning herself even as she bent her head and turned into the wall a bit, she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding when he passed right by her. After all, the trendy hat and relaxed muggle clothing she wore hardly fit within his image of her.

As she continued with her walk towards her parents' home, Hermione found her mind preoccupied with him now, instead of work. Finding it annoying, she tried to stop herself. After all, she'd done it plenty of times when they'd been at Hogwart's. Of course, to really ignore her thoughts of him, she'd had to admit some time ago that she was indeed curious of him. She always had been. She wondered about him occasionally, even as she ignored him at school and avoided him after it. He was, after all, steeped in one of the things that she found incredibly interesting. And that, she'd managed to convince herself, was the only reason she was curious about him. After all, he was dangerous, simply because he made her curious; simply because he was steeped in a magic that she found extremely fascinating, even if she was disturbed by her interest. Because really, what other logical reason did she have to occasionally think of Draco Malfoy? Shaking her head as she passed the flowers her mother was constantly attending, she shoved him from her head without much difficulty. After all, Hermione was hardly so presumptuous to assume he was in her neighborhood on a Saturday morning because of her. Greeting her parents, she figured that was the end of that.


	3. Forget to Think

**Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up here, guys! has been giving me a lot of problems lately- I couldn't upload any docs. Anyway, here it is! Thank you to Lion3ss, marauderbabe289, and Mew for reviewing my last chapter. Now on to the new one!**

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Chapter 3: Forget to Think

Hermione groaned. Who could possibly be knocking on her door at – at 7:30 in the morning? Everyone knew that on Sundays she slept in until eight o'clock. Everyone knew that Sunday was the only day she wanted to sleep in. And she had another thirty minutes. Wondering briefly if they would go away if she didn't answer, she was already climbing out of bed. Cursing herself for not being able to leave a knock or ring alone, she made her way to the door. She was still blinking sleepily when she opened the door. For the second time, she was jolted into reality by his face. What the hell was he doing here? Why the hell was he knocking on her door at seven thirty in the morning? He didn't say anything, but looked her up and down with a smirk on his face that could have held some amusement. It was precisely at that moment when she realized she was still in her pajamas, which consisted of a big, very long T-shirt. She felt foolishly exposed, though only half of her arms and legs were bare. For a moment she struggled against shutting the door in his face and running for some decent clothing, and then she regained control, all without his knowledge. Realizing that inviting him in was the only polite thing to do, Hermione forced herself to do it.

"Uh, please…come in, Malfoy." See, that wasn't so hard, she told herself as he walked in. She gestured toward the small kitchen, where she knew fresh coffee was waiting, next to a clean mug. She had a schedule she liked to follow, and she enjoyed waking up at eight to the smell of coffee from a machine with a timer. "There's some fresh coffee you can have. I'll just be a minute."

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and smirked to himself about something. Hermione fled to the safety of her bedroom. In a frenzy to get dressed properly and quietly, her mind was occupied with why he could be here. She also reached the conclusion that she should be more arrogant, as it now seemed quite obvious that he had been on her street because of her. A minute later, she was finished pulling on a pair of nice jeans and a thin green sweater. Glancing in the mirror she realized, with no amount of small horror, that she had almost forgotten about her hair. Grimacing to herself, she quickly pulled it back and up with a hair stick. That will have to do, she thought, catching sight of her chapped lips. Well, nothing could be done about that now, she thought on a sigh. The scent of her favorite coffee was more noticeable now, and she was please to note she had only taken three minutes, maybe four. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and told herself to be polite, no matter what.

Draco Malfoy was wandering around her living room, looking at her things. She bit back the urge to tell him to stop. It was, after all, what everyone did when they entered a new home. Of course, she thought he was being a bit nosier than most, but it was Malfoy, after all. Did she really expect anything else? Getting a new mug out and pour some coffee for herself, she slipped back into the living room, with his back to her. She cleared her throat politely. He nearly jumped. Damn, the woman was fast. It couldn't have been more than five minutes! But then again, he thought, this was Hermione Granger. He should have known she wouldn't take fifteen minutes just because other women have. Did he really expect anything different? He smirked to himself again and was the first to speak.

"Good morning, Granger. I hope I haven't…disturbed you." He really couldn't resist.

"Oh, no. Not at all, Malfoy. Enjoying the coffee?" she replied breezily. He very nearly smiled.

"Yes, thank you. I do believe…this is the first time we've spoken since Graduation."

"Why, so it is. Imagine, if only you hadn't appeared this morning at my door, how many more years it would have been." She smiled sweetly. He would not win. Because, of course everything was a competition when it came to Malfoy.

"Oh, not many, I assure you. You see, I think we're actually going to be seeing a lot more of each other."

"Hmm…" she let it slip. How could you respond to a statement like that without sounding childish? You couldn't, she answered herself. "So, Malfoy, I don't believe I know why you decided to knock on my door at seven thirty in the morning." It was as close to asking as she would come. She was tired of being fake friendly. He sat, making himself comfortable. She sat across from him, in her father's chair. Now, at last, he was ready to really talk.

"Well you see, I tried last weekend, but you weren't here. And that was at nine, so I though I'd try earlier for today. And look, you're home. Success."

"That still doesn't tell me what you're doing in the first place Malfoy. I've been thinking about it, and I simply can't find a single logical explanation for you needing to see me."

"I was elected for it, really. No one else wanted to do it, you see, knowing…how you are about certain things. So they sent me-"

"Good Lord, just tell me already. I appreciate your flair for dramatics, but now is really not the time."

"Fine then, Granger, have it your way. You've been promoted. You are now an Investigator, in the Department of Research of Magic."

"What?" Hermione couldn't breathe. That was her dream. She hadn't expected for it to be reality until almost a year later. "Why?"

"Everyone knows it's your aspiration, and even though they tell me you lack some of the actual credentials, they have no doubt that you can do anything and handle what you're given. You are, after all, Hermione Granger." He said with some irony. "The Department has recently let go one of it's few Investigators, and since everyone felt that you would have been there in a another year or so, they've just decided to bump to the date."

"Let go? Why were they let go?" Hermione knew how fierce the competition was in the Department, she knew that nobody who had worked hard enough to get in would do anything to mess it up enough to be fired.

"Let's just say there were some problems with an Associate." Of course. That could really be the only explanation, short of finding someone better. Associates of the DRM were very important. Investigators had to work with Associates to do most of their work. She had known someone would lose their job when she got promoted, but she didn't ever think she'd be promoted early because someone lost their job.

"It was you, wasn't it? He or she had problems with you, didn't they? Big enough problems to be fired, too. Damn, Malfoy."

"That is really none of your concern, but yes, he was fired because of his problems with me. The point is, you have your dream job, ahead of schedule, too. You are to report to the DRM at eight tomorrow, with your things. Sam will show you your office, and you will be expected to start right away. They already have a project for you. It's fresh, something they've just decided to tackle." She waited for him to tell her what it was. He didn't.

"Well, what is it?" she asked in exasperation. She'd almost forgotten she was talking to Malfoy.

"Dark Magic, and everything it entails." He thought she'd be repulsed. He thought she'd be sickened. He thought she'd be wondering if she really wanted the job after all. He thought wrong.

"Really? Oh, God…" she trailed off, lost in her thoughts. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation. She suddenly couldn't wait for tomorrow. Her first project, Dark Magic. Oh, God, she couldn't wait! She wondered briefly if she should really be so excited about this, but decided it didn't matter, because she was anyway. To be able to study it all, learn it all. All of it, all the Dark Magic information the Ministry had at its disposal would be hers. And oh, they must have gotten a damn good Associate. She knew that was the only reason the DRM hadn't gone into Dark Magic before, because there'd really been nobody willing to share that knew enough for him or her to be wanted. She couldn't even begin to guess who her Associate was. But even the excitement of that, of meeting and learning of her Associate, could not begin to equal her absolute rapture toward the subject itself. Hermione tried to stem herself…she didn't want people getting suspicious. After all, it's hardly normal for a perfectly good person, (a Gryffindor, she silently thought) to have such a fevered interest in Dark Magic. She came back to herself, and realized that Malfoy was staring at her in the most peculiar way.

Oh, he had certainly thought wrong. Draco knew it to be true the moment she forgot he was there. He saw the light in her eyes, the burning curiosity that could never have enough to placate it. He was surprised it was there, certainly, when he realized that it was there because she would be working with Dark Magic. She must be horribly fascinated with it, he thought, like people who see car crashes, who want to look away but can't. He saw her come back from her thoughts, saw the questions flitting through her eyes. Personally, he couldn't wait to answer those questions. He wasn't exactly thrilled by the answers themselves, but her reaction to them. He had always loved her reactions, when they came. It was all too often that he saw them shoved down, and was denied the pleasure her anger brought him, denied the glorious look of her when she was riled. Kind of like she had just looked, lost in her thoughts, he realized. Then he noticed her looking strangely at him and schooled his features into a smirk. This was going to be fun.

"Don't you want to know who your Associate is, Granger?"

"You know? Malfoy…what exactly is your relationship with the DRM that you knew enough to be sent to tell me all this? And why, in God's name, did you agree to it? I realize that things have changed a bit from when we were younger, but I always got the impression that you never really did things you weren't forced to do. And I can't think of anyone that could actually force you to do something these days." She sent him a hard look. She wanted to know why he was here, personally here, at eight in the morning on Sunday, interrupting her schedule and breaking her record for avoiding him. He took his time before answering.

"I am an Associate, Granger. I fund the DRM to the point that they can afford to be a little…independent from the Ministry. But come; ask about your Associate. You know you want to!" She sighed. He wasn't going to tell her. Okay, she could deal with that. Really, she could. And she was curious to know who her Associate was.

"Alright, Malfoy. Since you seem so eager to tell me, please do. Who is my Associate?"

"I am."

He reveled in saying the words, watching them fall one by one into her mind. His favorite part came after that, when she got that look. The one she always got in school, when he pushed her past the point of shoving down her reaction. He knew what she was going to do a moment before she did. That was how he managed to avoid her surprisingly good aim with the now empty coffee mug. A second later, she realized what she had done and clapped her hands over her mouth. Oh, Lord, no! her mind screamed. She did not just do that. She did not just throw her second favorite mug at Draco Malfoy. No, she didn't. Oh God. She could not believe that he could still push her far enough that her control snapped. Still, four years after she had become an adult in the wizarding world. He still brought out that side of her. Damn him! Damn him to hell!

"You can see now why no one else wanted to tell you."

"You…You…" she couldn't finish the thought. Forcing herself to collect her mug, she went to the kitchen to fume silently. She hated him! He was the only person on the face of the earth that could make her lose her temper enough to actually resort to physical violence. Sure, Ron, and sometimes Harry, had made her mad enough to spit fire, but she had never been tempted to get physical. Hermione had never hit either one of them, or thrown anything at them. Of course, she hadn't thought about doing either one of those things to Malfoy, she had just done them. Perhaps that was what infuriated her the most. He could make her forget to think. Collecting herself, she went back out to the living room. She found he had started the fire, for though it was still September, and the days were warm, the mornings were chilly. Silently, she sat in her father's chair and just looked at him. The man who could make her forget to think in anger. She wondered briefly why that was, and then decided to stop dwelling on it. After all, it wouldn't do any good.

"Well…I guess you've accomplished what you came for, didn't you?" Hermione wasn't stupid enough to think he hadn't done it without purpose.

"Yes, I guess I did." They went back to looking at each other, both thinking about the other. Hermione wished he would leave already. He had, after all, done what he came to do. And yet…he wasn't moving. Hermione wasn't impolite enough to ask him to leave. Meanwhile, Draco was wishing he could've taken a picture of her like that. Watch over and over as that look came across her face. He knew he should probably leave. Their business, after all, was through. But…

"Granger, what're you doing today?"

"Nothing." She regretted it immediately. She wished reverently that she had thought to lie to him. Because coming from him, that question could be nothing good.

"Good. I'll pick you up at eight for supper. We'll eat and talk about our business future. It'll save you time tomorrow."

"What? Oh, no, I don't think so. It really wouldn't-"

"Come now, Granger. Just dress casual and be ready at eight."

"Malfoy, I said no."

"Yes, I do recall that. And I said I'll pick you up at eight." He got up and walked to the door. She scoffed and followed him.

"If you think that you can just-" He cut her off again and opened the door.

"Granger, its just dinner. We haven't spoken in years. We're sure to have a long future together because of your project. Do you really want to annoy the Associate that had another Investigator fired?" He smiled, because he knew she'd take no chances with her career. He was right.

"Fine then, practically blackmail me, why don't you? Goodbye Malfoy."

She shut the door in his face. If he really thought she'd be ready at eight, he had another thing coming. She went to her bedroom to get a book and came out to get some more coffee before sitting once again by the fire. Not wanting to think about the whole thing for a little bit, Hermione had pulled out one of her favorites. Three hours later, she was done with the book and hungry. Deciding to go out to lunch, she smacked some lip-gloss on, grabbed her small purse, and redid her hair to make it tighter. She was halfway though her lunch at a small café when she realized that it'd been a month since she had bought any books. She had, of course, stopped in occasionally, because she really couldn't help herself. However, this time she only had two books being held for her, as opposed to the six it had been last month. That also meant she could browse around for more. Hermione decided that days got better as they went on.

Stepping inside the lovely bookshop that was her favorite, she completely forgot about everything else, just as she always had.

* * *

**I've been trying to make the chapters a little longer. Let me know how I'm doing, 'kay?**


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